For a long time she sat at the open window, lost in a reverie—till she saw the sun beginning to sink in a splendid panoply of crimson and gold, with streaming clouds of fleecy white and pale amber spreading from east to west, from north to south, like the unfurling flags of some great fairy’s victorious army, and then a sudden thrill ran through her blood which made her heart beat and her face grow pale—it was close upon the destined hour when—ah!—she would not stop to think of the “when” or the “where”—instinctively she knelt down, and with folded hands said her prayers simply as a child, though with more than a child’s fervour. She had scarcely breathed the last “Amen,” when a light tap came on her door, and on her calling “Come in”—Vasho entered, carrying a small parcel with a note from Dimitrius. Handing it to her, he signified by his usual expressive signs that he would wait outside for the answer. As soon as he had retired, she opened the note and read as follows:
“You will please disrobe yourself completely, and wear only this garment which I send. No other material must touch any part of your body. Let your hair be undone and quite free—no hairpins must remain in it, and no metal of any sort must be upon your person,—no ring, bracelet, or anything whatsoever. When you are ready, Vasho will bring you to me in the laboratory.”
Having mastered these instructions she undid the packet which accompanied them,—and unfolded a plain, long, white robe of the most exquisitely beautiful texture woven apparently of many double strands of silk. It was perfectly opaque—not the slightest glimmer of the light itself could be seen through it, yet it shone with a curious luminance as though it had been dipped in frosted silver. For a moment she hesitated. A tremor of natural dread shook her nerves,—then, with a determined effort, mastering herself, she hurried into her bedroom, and there undressing, laid all her clothes neatly folded up on the bed. The action reminded her of the way she had folded up her clothes with similar neatness and left them on the rocks above the sea on the morning she had decided to effect a lasting disappearance by “drowning.”
“And now”—she thought—“Now comes a far greater plunge into the unknown than ever I could have imagined possible!”
In a few minutes she was “attired for the sacrifice,” as she said, addressing these words to herself in the mirror, and a very fair victim she looked. The strange, white sheeny garment in which she was clothed from neck to feet gave her the appearance of an angel in a picture,—and the youthful outline of her face, the delicacy of her skin, the deep brilliancy of her eyes, all set off against a background of glorious amber-brown hair, which rippled in plentiful waves over her shoulders and far below her waist, made her look more of a vision than a reality.
“Good-bye, you poor, lonely Diana!” she said, softly. “If you never come back I am glad I saw you just like this—for once!”
She kissed her hand to her own reflection, then turned and went swiftly through the rooms, not looking back. Vasho, waiting for her in the outer hall, could not altogether disguise his wonderment at sight of her,—but he saluted in his usual passively humble Eastern manner, and led the way, signing to her to follow. The house was very quiet,—they met no one, and very soon arrived at the ponderous door of the laboratory, which swung noiselessly upwards to give them entrance. Within, there seemed to be a glowing furnace of fire; the great Wheel emitted such ceaseless and brilliant showers of flame in its rotations that the whole place was filled with light that almost blinded the eyes, and Diana could scarcely see Dimitrius, when, like a black speck detaching itself from the surrounding sea of crimson vapour, he advanced to meet her. He was exceedingly pale, and his eyes were feverishly brilliant.
“So you have come!” he said. “I am such a sceptic that at this last moment I doubted whether you would!”
She looked at him steadfastly, but answered nothing.
“You are brave—you are magnificent!” he went on, his voice sinking to a lower tone—“But, Diana—I want you to say one thing before I enter on this final task—and that is—‘I forgive you!’”